


I'm No Romantic I Swear

by Kymopoleia



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Gen, Poet!Jason, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:00:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1511471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jason Todd is secretly a romantic poet as well as a vigilante.<br/>AKA, shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intros and Prizes

**Author's Note:**

> this is gonna be as choppy as hell just saying

_And what love I hath amassed_  
 _None hath known but in the past_  
 _Death makes a grave for love here_  
 _In this dirt's tender embrace_  
 _Stagnant is the water in the rear_  
 _For my heart has long since lain here_

Jason Todd had never told anyone about the secret panel in his bedroom's wall, though he doubted Bruce **didn't** know about it. More importantly, he'd never told anyone about his other life.

No, not as the Red Hood, his siblings and Bruce knew all about that. Jason Love was the alias he hoped they'd never learn of.

Why? Because Jason Love was a well established, highly secretive poet who had published works that made anyone with an eye for romance swoon. When he used his brain, shit came out that made himself blush from sappyness.

And the worst part? It was actually good. Like, really good. People quoted him in movies. Teenage girls drew pictures about his works. Several different videos of people proposing with his poems had popped up on youtube.

It was a nightmare, but atleast it was a well-paying nightmare. In fact, it was so well-paying that he only stayed at the manor because he wanted to, and had to use his Wayne credit card just enough so that Bruce wouldn't think he was stealing or something. Independence felt good though, so he still used his own small fortune every chance he could- buying a soda wouldn't take too much off when he was getting a couple hundred a month in interest.

It was amazing and beautiful in the worst way, and it made him feel better than he'd like to honestly admit.

Jason's phone rang in the middle of torturing a yellow and green clad clown for information on the Joker, and he sighed as he shoved a bloody rag into the man's mouth to keep him quiet. He tugged off his helmet, not minding anymore if the man saw- worst case he'd have to kill him, and he was one of Joker's goons. He'd just have to make sure the body was never found and everything would be okay.

So he held the phone up to his ear and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, a bit of annoyance prickling up.

"Mr. Love! Good news, good news!" It was Jason's public relations manager person, who he'd hired back during the first book's run, and taken approximately 3 pieces of advice from in the past six years.

"It had better be fucking amazing news, it's three in the goddamn morning." He growled back.

" _Nighttime Collections_ won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry, it was announced yesterday morning, but I just got the news! This is huge for you, you have to go public! They won't take no for an answer!"

Jason nearly dropped the phone. "I... Won..." He said slowly, dumbfounded and slowly getting excited at the prospect.

"Yes! I'm sending you plans and schedules now!"

Jason hangs up on the man, face slowly breaking into a grin. He turned around to face the clown.

"I just won the Pulitzer Prize!" He says to the goon, who nods appreciatively.

Jason punches him unconscious and lets a nervous laugh bubble up.

"I won the Pulitzer Prize."


	2. I've never been this nervous before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you excited im excited lets be excited together kay  
> also i love how i portray B it's really dumb but there's some upsetting parts so it makes up for it

_Never before hath beauties like her_  
 _Seen monsters like me_  
 _And when my fangs clicked into a grin_  
 _Never before hath a beauty like him_  
 _Come close enough to touch_  
 _For once, my red eyes lowered_  
 _And I gripped his hand in mine_  
 _Only my claws clacked against the glass_  
 _I'm always alone with_  
 _The beauties and monsters_  
 _In this all-night masquerade_  


Dick is jumping up and down excitedly when Jason gets home from disposing of the goon. "Jason Love just won the Pulitzer Prize!" He yells as soon as everyone's gathered.

It had been very surprising to find that all the members of his family were apt fans of his works, though he couldn't help but wonder if they'd still like them once they learned who composed them. Sure, the poems would always stay the same, but knowing who wrote them would always add a new perspective, and he felt as though his presence tainted many of the family's favorite activities and made them unappealing.

Well, there was really no way to know that, but it was the vibe he got .

"You called us here for that?" He says as Steph cheers farther up the table, and Damian smiles- it's nice to see him smile, and Jason can't help the bit of warmth at the thought of his brother genuinely enjoying himself. Hell, even Bruce has his one-millimeter smile on as Alfred pours some wine- no doubt at Dick's request, since not even Steph had broken out the wine last time she'd had huge news. Or Bruce. Wine was something they had in abundance, and the rules were that if they wanted it, they had to pour it themselves.

The fact that they're doing this makes that annoying warmth grow.

"Yes, it's not our fault that you don't have any taste." Dick's tone is playful, as if he thinks Jason will celebrate properly once he's alone.

He has no idea.

But Jason still takes the wine because hey, it's wine that he didn't have to pour himself, and he'll need as much alcohol as possible to combat the nerves acting up along with that warmth. He's preparing to out himself as an- A romantic. He's not sure he'll ever be ready for that. His first planned appearance is on a late evening talkshow that he knows Tim and Steph always watch together before patrol.

He's going to need all the luck and twice the patience to get through this mess, and what better way to get both then alcohol?

_My heart beats faster than anything_  
 _When he smiles down at me_  
 _And I doubt that with him at my side_  
 _Even the Flash can catch my love_  
 _As it bounds across this very earth_  
 _I'd give up all I have left_  
 _Down to my very last breath_  
 _If he smiled like that when he asked_  


"B. I'm not patrolling tonight." Jason said as he leaned against the door to Bruce's study. He was already wearing his leather jacket and shoes, so it wasn't hard to understand Bruce's surprised look.

"Really? Normally we have to force you to stay home. Something happening?" Bruce said, lowering his reading glasses.

Jason nodded and shrugged his backpack into view. Inside were a few things that he'd be taking with him on the flight to Hollywood to do the talkshow, and also some other things in case he got bored or nervous or needed to kill a man and get away with it.

Little things.

"I'll be back tomorrow or Thursday. Short trip with a..." He purposefully hesitates so that Bruce would think he was going out with someone questionable. "Friend." Maybe he'd survive without his family knowing for just a little longer.

Bruce nods as if Jason's explanation tells him everything he needs to know, so Jay takes that as his cue to escape downstairs to wait by the gate for the cab his public relations manager had coming to get him.

Ace is there, and is staring up at him with this pitifully morose look, so he gives him a bellyrub and doesn't stop until the cab pulls up.

Inside is Conner Price, the voice of the man who had helped him through so much. He offers him a hand to shake and tells the driver to take them to the airport, and Jason has to wonder if he's really ready for this.

_In another life, there was a place for me_  
 _A home and a family_  
 _Now I've been replaced_  
 _A new figure sewn into where my seams_  
 _Had been ripped to shreds_  
 _A manic laugh and a flash of light_  
 _Were all it took to break my brain_  
 _Now if only their souls would_  
 _Leave me to my phantom pains_  
 _This hasn't been my home_  
 _In a damn long time_  


The building where _Culture Corner_ is filmed is cold. The host, Drew Santino, is in a simple black suit and green tie that don't seem to be any thicker than the thin band shirt Jason had been wearing before he'd been ambushed by experts with degrees in unknown fields and dragged to a dressing room. Currently, Conner is holding his leather jacket hostage.

Though he is quite disgruntled and nervous from the attack, Jason must admit- he looks nice. His hair hasn't been touched, so the thick streak of white that's just off center is still styled the way he's used to seeing it. A dark suit that wasn't quite dark enough to be black but was too dark to be gray, a blood red tie- some woman had told him it was his color, and he had been too shocked at the irony to respond- and just enough eye makeup to make his blue eyes even more... Blue. That's the only way he can describe it. Blue.

But, as he comes to stand and wait for his cue to walk onstage, he realizes something terrifying. There's no script for this moment, no personality to take on, no alias for him to return to. This is the making or breaking of Jason Love. There is only him and the butterflies in his stomach and no guns or knives and-

"Breathe, big guy." A techie who looks almost twelve says without looking at Jason. He reminds him of Tim, or Dick, with the way he works intently on the set and still manages to be aware of his surroundings and the freaking out guests.

Somehow, those thoughts relax Jason enough to smile for the camera as he walks onstage, and wave at the audience before taking his seat next to Drew.

"Jason Love everybody, Jason Love!"

Steph and Tim were settled in the manor's most-used TV room, watching as _Culture Corner_ started up, when a familiar face appeared onscreen accompanied by the words "Jason Love" and Drew, the host, welcoming the poet to the show.

Tim choked on his popcorn while Steph screamed for Dick and Damian and Bruce.

They were there in a record seven seconds, each brandishing their own particular brand of weapon. Dami had his belt, and Dick had his escrima sticks, while Bruce was holding something that had probably once been a bottle of shampoo, but he'd broken in his rush out of the bathroom and downstairs. Luckily, he'd had time to put on a robe.

Steph merely points wordlessly at the screen, and the three drop their respective weapons and jaws.

Alfred also happened to walk in at that moment, and did a double take. "Is that Master Jason?"

"So, it's been several years that you've been publishing." Drew said, and Jay nodded in response, glad that the first question was starting off easily. "What made you decide to show your face now, and not then?"

And the other shoe had been dropped.

"I was recovering from a traumatic experience," He started, and the studio immediately went quiet around him. "I, I wasn't in a good place. I sent the first set of poems in just so that I wouldn't have to look at them, since I wrote them before the... Uh... Experience. Then _Paradise_ was published and I got my shit together, and I was in a well enough place again, after quite a long time, to finally be okay with things. I wasn't okay with where my life was going though, so I did my best to change it and let go of as much as I could. Well, there's still this one grudge I'm holding, but we're all allowed a few of those, right?" He glanced out at the audience- he'd been surprised to find that there actually was a live audience- and smiled softly, the first real smile he'd made anywhere except in front of a mirror in a long time. "I started writing more, using the works to calm me down. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't." That drew some chuckles from the crowd, and Drew nodded encouragingly.

"And now, with _Nighttime Collections_ winning the Pulitzer Prize... What better time than now?"

Drew nodded. "There is no better time. We only live once, right?"

Jason laughed loudly and nodded, loosening up.

"Yeah, we only live once."

The entire family had settled in to watch their Jaybird onscreen. Dick and Steph cried at the first question, when Jason mentioned a "traumatic experience" that could only be his death seven years before. Damian hadn't been there for that particular time, but he could tell from their reactions that it had been a troublesome time.

But then things weren't so bad. Jason was smiling and laughing, and he looked truly at ease. Hell, his eyes were twinkling.

Damian was happy for his elder brother.

"So, Jason- Can I call you Jay?"

Jason nodded at Drew. "I prefer Jay, actually." There was yet another collective chuckle from the audience.

Drew smiled before continuing. "Do you ever pick favorites, when it comes to your works?"

Jason shrugged. "Picking favorites is as easy and hard as it always is, just with these it's picking the ones I like best, and the ones I want to show off-" He flashed a wolfish grin. "Sometimes those traits don't really mesh."

Drew laughed. "Now, it's time for the question I know you've been expecting. So many of your works mention masculine and feminine love interests, could you tell us a bit about them?"

Jason bit his lip, trying not to smile and failing. "There are some whom I'm interested in that I haven't talked to, yes, and there are some old partners who I can never quite stop thinking about. I remember how things were with them, and how different I am then from now- Don't give me that look!" He laughed lightly. "I really have changed so much, if you'd met me before I published you wouldn't believe I was who I am now."

"Yes, you were a lot poorer!" Drew teased.

It wasn't actually very funny, since it was true, but Jay laughed anyways, since they expected him to. "I guess that I just wish I could have changed how things ended with them, so that I wouldn't be as hesitant to start anything else, you know?"

Drew nodded, serious again. "Do you think that any of these interests or old flings are watching?"

"Oh, definitely." Jason rolled his eyes. "With wide eyes and open mouths. They should probably close them, they might catch flies."

Another bright grin, this time for the camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i so abused those
> 
> 's didn't i haha


	3. Chapter 3

_"Hold my hand, my sweet"_  
 _I wish I'd had time to say_  
 _Before you and our love washed away_  
 _Give me a taste before I go_  
 _So I'll have a clear definition of home_  


Everyone was quiet for a moment as the show, and their Jaybird, cut to commercial.

"Is this happening?" Steph asked, still sorta kinda in shock about the whole ordeal. Well, they all were. Jason was their favorite author, and they'd never known, never even considered the possibility that he might be. To them, Jason Love had been just another name who had words they adored. A face they didn't know nor really care to see, since his words gave them enough to know him without ever meeting him.

But, well, they had met him. He was living with them, and now they could see the parallels between the works and the things that had happened to their brother. It was like a particularly clever riddle, now that they'd been told the answer, it was so glaringly obvious that they felt like smacking themselves.

Of course it was Jason. It always had been.

"I think so." Tim replies to Steph, and everyone else nods numbly.

"Call me back in when commercial's over." Dick says as he gets up and goes around the corner for a momentary semblance of privacy. The group's distracted nods tell him that they don't mind that he's gone from their presence for a moment, since they're in such a state of shock.

So he pulled his phone out and pressed #6 on speed dial. A few rings, and it was answered with a deep "Hello" and muffled sounds of shushing in the background. Dick paid the shushing no mind, instead choosing to smile and start talking.

"Jason you son of a bitch how come you never told me you were- you know?" He couldn't keep the grin off of his face as he **tried** to sound mad. "Tried" being the key word here, as he was just so excited and happy. The shock and novelty of this discovery was wearing off, and the joy was beginning.

He was feeling the aster. His brother was doing okay and was making a life for himself, had something other than pain and fear and vengeance and a want to destroy the Joker and everything he stood for. Jason had more than that, had words and rhyme and a life and something to **do** with himself, rather than just **being** who he was. And that was exciting and great and didn't make him want to cry as much as it made him want to jump Jaybird and hug him a lot.

In short, he was proud.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Only because now I have one less favorite person in the world."

The deep shuddering breath Jason takes in hurts Dick just enough that he only fakes him out for a moment longer.

"Now both of my favorite people are actually just you!" He finishes.

The sigh of relief and the light chuckle makes his heart warm, even though there is the most peculiar sound of cheers in the background- he ignores those in favor of listening to what Jason has to say.

"Dickie? I have to go, and don't hate me in a minute, okay?"

"What- Jaybird what did you do." His tone takes a more serious turn.

"The show is lagged."

Dick pales in horror and stows his phone in his pocket as he returns to the TV room. The last commercial is ending, and the logo of _Culture Corner_ is showing and Drew greeting the audience outside the studio. He turns to Jay and opens his mouth to ask him something, but before he can, the familiar tone of Jason's ringtone for Dick- "Unavoidable" by Neon Trees- interrupts. Jason flushes and digs it out, doing that adorable biting-lip-smiling thing that Dick hadn't known possible for him to do before tonight.

"May I take this?"

"Only if we all can." Drew gestures at himself and the audience.

Jay nods and the pit in Dick's stomach gets heavier. He puts the phone on speaker, and watches as Drew shushes the crowd.

That explains the noise that he hadn't questioned.

The conversation plays out much the same, except that what had sounded like innocent exuberance when he spoke, became something much more indecent onscreen. He didn't sound like a brother, like a figure who had met Jason when Bruce had brought him home, like someone who had helped him with homework and taught him how to love women and men alike, how to throw a batarangang and how to stand so that the robin cape didn't get trapped beneath his feet. He doesn't seem like someone five years Jason's senior, someone who has watched him die and come back, felt all the pain that came with that. He seems like a boyfriend, a passing fling, some harpy who only exists when Jay wants him to. His words, which had been such a good idea roughly two minutes ago, now make his cheeks burn in embarrassment and wonder what had made him call in the first place.

Jason can tell what everyone is thinking, but he doesn't show it. He merely smiles bashfully at Drew and stows his phone away again. Drew's grin makes Dick feel cheap, and he knows that if he ever meets the man he will probably punch him for having that look on his face.

"Is that one of your interests 'Jaybird'?"

A portion of the sheepish self-consciousness shifts to anger at the tone the host's voice takes as he says the nickname. How dare he make fun of the nickname? It was a family thing, and he hadn't even expected it to be on national television. Ugh.

But Jay simply smiles wider and seems to blush just a bit.

"I can't really say.

"Oh, you dog, why not?"

"Well I know he's already probably going to punch me in the face, and confirming or denying anything would just make it worse, and I sort of value my fucking good looks, you know?"

He's bleeped out, and that makes a titter rise from Dick. Stephanie joins in, and Tim too. Within a moment, they have to pause the show just to get through their laughter without interrupting the scene.

And yeah, he probably won't punch Jay in his face, but he might as well let him think that he will. His face looks really dumb and cute when he smiles like that, and Dick can stand seeing that sheepish smile as long as it means he won't be seen as a total softy.

Come on, those escrima sticks weren't anything to bat an eye at. And his Nightwing getup was quite well known around Gotham, and though it wasn't as widely feared, it still had a name and a symbol.

"Hey guys... Does this mean that Jaybird's secretly a romantic?" Steph pipes up.

Oh. Oh god. Yes it does.

_Red is the color of love_  
 _Red is the color of rage_  
 _Red is the color of pain_  
 _And I can think of nothing better_  
 _To describe your lips_  
 _When you smile and kiss and scream_  
 _At the wretch that is me_  


Drew really didn't want to stop asking him questions, as if he thought that once he was done, Jason would disappear. But that wasn't going to happen, he was tired of hiding.

But the producer is telling the host that his time with Jay is **done** and that the next guest has been waiting patiently for quite some time now, and that it was great and all but he really does need the rest of the time slot for someone else.

"Everyone, that was Jason Love! We're sending you home with a copy of his Pulitzer Prize winning book, _Nighttime Collections_ so make sure to give him a round of applause!"

The clapping and whistles are thunderous, making the small smile on his face grow into a beam as he stands and waves at them before exiting the stage. Conner hugs him before putting his jacket around his shoulders and leading him away. "You did perfectly, Jay, perfectly. Couldn't have done better if I was saying it myself! You have made your fans very happy today, Jason, very happy."

It's nice to hear.


End file.
